


Damn Fine Afternoon

by skybound2



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Other, Romance, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybound2/pseuds/skybound2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic cliche go-go-go! Sex pollen has its way with our trio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Fine Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** In my ever growing effort to fail completely at the anon portion of the kinkmeme, I'm finally owning up to this one. The request was for Garrus, F!Shep, Zaeed, and sex pollen. There's really no plot here folks. At all.

There was sex.

That kind of routine, insert Tab A into Slot B (Or Slot A or Slot C, depending on your predilections) that most sentient beings have on a semi-regular basis. Maybe, if you're lucky, you occasionally get to upgrade the server of your Tab, or the supplier of your Slot, and life just keeps on ticking by; one non-explosive orgasm at a time.

Then, there was fucking.

That kind of sweaty, raw, grinding sensational act, where there are so many permutations and uses of the Tab/Slot concept, that by the end of it, your head is spinning, your heart-rate has skyrocketed, you've been reminded of muscles you never even knew you _had_, the fish have all died (don't even ask), and you think that the rest of the universe can go right on ahead and fuck itself, because there is no way you are moving for at least three weeks.

As it turned out (much to Shepard's delight) sex with Garrus and Zaeed fell firmly into that second category.

It hadn't exactly been _planned_ of course. (I mean really, Shepard was a busy woman, and taking time out of her day to schedule such an event just wasn't possible. Plus, Kelly was nosier than a varren snuffing out day-old-meat, and her inability to keep quiet on private matters was practically a syndrome.) No, it hadn't been planned. But dammit all, Shepard just _might_ have to plan out a repeat for the near future. Because this? This felt _damn_ good.

It all started on a tiny forested planet in the outer ring of the Hades Gamma cluster. Shepard had been whiling her day away initiating scans, shooting off probes, and generally annoying the shit out of the local flora and fauna, when EDI had pointed out an odd reading. Entirely bored with her life at the moment (they were stuck in their current location while an unanticipated error in the drive core was repaired – Tali, Donnelly, and Gabby had barricaded engineering, and weren't letting anyone else in the vicinity, much to Jack's irritation), Shepard had near flown out of her chair and rushed to the cargo hold in her excitement to do _anything_ else. She'd flagged down both Garrus and Zaeed to accompany her, and off the three had went.

The 'blip' that EDI had picked up had turned out to be a malfunctioning distress beacon nearly a half-century old. The signature's that they could discern from the beacon indicated salarian design. A good scouring of the planet's surface (a virtual tropical rainforest paradise that was thrilling for Shepard as it gave her a chance to breathe non-recirculated air) within range of the beacon turned up no survivors. Considering the salarian lifespan, this really wasn't all that surprising. And what little wreckage could be found was virtually unsalvageable. Technically, the entire mission had been a bust.

"_Oh, fuck! Yes!"_ Shepard was having a hell of a time seeing it that way at the moment, however.

~~~\/~~~

Prior to this little planet-side excursion, Shepard had pulled absolutely no punches when it came to letting Garrus know that she was interested. She'd laid it all out on the table as plainly as she could without actually using the words 'Please, come fuck me now, Garrus.' And for that, she gave herself a lot of credit. The man was exceedingly confidant in battle, but got all kinds of flustered whenever she'd linger too close to his person. It was both adorable and terribly frustrating.

Still, she hadn't wanted to rush him. There were genuine feelings there, on both sides, and it was important to her that a balance be maintained.

Zaeed was an entirely different beast altogether. The man could weave one hell of a tale, and Shepard often found herself impressed by the old merc. Even allowed him the occasional flirt, not that it was ever going to go anywhere. But it was a way to pass the time (that didn't typically involve probing anything), and Shepard was pragmatic enough to know that you never turn down a source of entertainment when criss-crossing the universe on a suicidal mission.

It would just be idiotic.

While on the way back to the shuttle from the useless beacon, the trio had been witness to an entirely unexpected (and beautiful) display, as two oversized peach and neon-blue flowers had bloomed in the middle of the path that they were walking. Twice the size of a krogan, the large blooms had released soft tufts of pink pollen into the air. (It reminded Shepard vaguely of cotton candy her mother had cotton her once, when she was nine.) They danced in the soft breeze for several lingering seconds, mesmerizing the three of them, before being carried off by the wind.

The sight had actually made Shepard feel bad for her blatant exploitation of Palladium from the planet's core.

By the time the three had made it to the shuttle, Shepard had begun to feel a lightness overcome her. It wasn't anything drastic or worrying, she just felt _happy_. She tossed a grin at Garrus, and was rewarded with a wide mandible flare in return. On the other side of the shuttle, Zaeed had laughed. A real honest-to-goodness, no-ulterior-motives, laugh. It made him look years younger.

It hadn't been a bad way to spend the remainder of the ride.

They'd gone through a short debriefing upon returning to the Normandy (Mordin went immediately into research mode on the scrambled bits and pieces of information they had managed to retrieve from the beacon) and for some reason, Shepard had thought it would be a simply _brilliant_ idea to invite Garrus and Zaeed up to her room. She'd been enjoying herself in their company – talking, laughing, and okay maybe a small bit of flirting – and couldn't fathom why they shouldn't all spend some more time together.

Apparently, neither had they.

~~~\/~~~

The elevator on the Normandy was possibly the worst designed elevator in all of Citadel space. Shepard had long been convinced that riding in the thing was some sort of psychological experiment on the part of Cerberus, designed to determine the exact cracking point for each member of the crew. (Personally, Shepard had never been able to ride the thing all the way from her cabin to engineering in one shot. She'd always be too antsy by the time she got to the Crew Deck, and have to disembark temporarily. She was fairly certain that Mess Sergeant Gardner thought she was a bit loopy in the head.) On this particular occasion, the 3.5 minutes that the elevator took to climb from the CIC to Shepard's cabin was apparently all that was needed for the effects of the pollen the trio had inhaled to take full effect.

By the time the doors had finally opened, Shepard had all but launched herself at Garrus – who had responded with an impressive growl, and hiked her up onto his hips. She had tugged his face to hers, and his hard mouth met her pliable one in as best a rendition of a kiss as he could manage, while he pressed her into the nearest solid surface. Which – sadly – turned out to be said doors.

The two had stumbled spectacularly onto the ground. Zaeed laughed again (that same light-hearted sound) and stepped over the two, nudging them none-to-gently with his boot. "Impatient sods."

Shepard had thrown her head back, clearing the hair from her eyes to watch the merc practically saunter into her cabin, his chest plate clanging to the ground behind him.

It was embarrassing how fast her and Garrus scrambled up and ran into the other room.

The events immediately following that were a bit of a blur. Shepard could remember Zaeed yanking her by the arm into the cabin, his blessedly armor-free torso sliding against hers (when she lost her upper armor plate, she had no idea – but she really hoped she hadn't left it in the elevator). Her back had met the glass of the fishtank, and the air had been compressed from her lungs for a fraction of a second, right before his tongue darted back into her mouth, and their hands delved for the clamps and latches holding their leg armor together.

She could also distinctly recall when her hand first slide around the merc's arousal, and the low-level whimper that he released moments after Garrus' long arms wrapped around the two of them from behind Zaeed, his three-fingered hand joining hers. There was a sort of ringing in her ears, and an unfocused quality to her eyes as she watched the turian nip at the other man's throat, causing Zaeed to bite back a curse.

That was some time ago, however.

"_Buggering, bloody, fucking,_ hell_."_

He wasn't biting back those same curses now.

~~~\/~~~

She'd been hiked up, legs pressed wide against the glass, her back rubbing roughly against the divider between the two sides of the tank. Her hands clawed at whatever skin (or plating) she could reach, as the merc plunged into her over and over again, his motions augmented by Garrus' movements behind him. She could just make the turian's clamped jaws against the exposed neck of the human male sandwiched between them.

She'd come screaming that first time, beating her head back against the tank, unable to hold back as her inner walls clamped around the man buried inside her, as his hips had rotated once. Twice. Three more times before his head had fallen to her shoulder, hot air coasting over her skin in heavy breaths.

Panting, she'd been pulled away from the fish tank, and tossed over the arm of the couch by one very wild-eyed turian, his talons scrapping at her skin and causing delicious needle pricks of pain and pleasure to explode across its surface. His name was a plea on her lips when he finally thrust up into her. Long, and hard, and slightly ridged (if not as thick as Zaeed), everywhere he touched her, her skin caught fire. The difference in body temperatures highly noticeable with them pressed so close together.

She was digging her nails deep into the cushion in front her, pressing back into him with every thrust. Swiveling her hips in small figure eights that quickly lost their rhythm when he dropped lengthwise against her back and nipped repeatedly at the fleshy part of her shoulder.

Shepard cried out, the tips of her next orgasm rolling over her just as Zaeed apparently got his own wind back, and settled on the cushion in front of her. His length, swollen and slick still, ready for her. There was nothing she wanted more than to drop her head and take him in her mouth. So she did.

She swirled her tongue around the head, then attempted to trace the shaft with it, but was soon unable to do anything more than bob and suckle and moan as Garrus decided to step it up a notch, and slipped a wet finger very carefully into the one area of her body yet to be filled.

Her back arched, and she'd pushed back so fiercely, that Zaeed was forced to grab her head to keep from slipping out of her mouth. He took to fucking her in fast, shallow thrusts as he finished, allowing her to swallow him all down without issue. She watched, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent moan, as he slumped back against the couch and Garrus finally, _finally_ came with a roar – one hand clamped full-forced on her hip.

The bed had been next.

That time, it was her that had dragged Garrus along, tossing him onto the surface, and sliding her way up his body, taking the time to drag her tongue over every little bit that she could (there was a slight tingling sensation in her lips when she pressed a kiss briefly to the top of his still-hard shaft, but she moved on, and it passed without another thought). She'd settled her slit against him, aching with need still, and bowed her head, tickling him with a curtain of hair. She pressed her forehead to his, and allowed her body to slip down and over him. That dual-toned voiced echoing over the trio's combined gulps for air in a simple plea, "_Shepard._"

She'd smirked, and pressed her hands to his chest, raising her hips up and down, up and down, nearly letting him slide from her body with each stroke, discovering (quite happily) that the plating along his groin was angled in such a way that her clit pressed against it with every downstroke. His growl was menacing, and his talons sharp as he attempted to stop her teasing and fuck her in earnest.

Soon, her eyes had closed in pleasure. They half-rolled up in the back of her head, as a cool calloused palm traced down across her back, dipping into the curves of muscle, and trailing the hard-earned sweat across her skin. Human palms joined Garrus' at her hips, and a rough, accented voice had dipped to her ear. "Room for one more?"

And then he was behind her, the head of his cock pressing into the tight bud, and pushing slowly (oh-so-slowly) forward. Garrus (managing to still have some sense to him apparently), paused his movements – holding Shepard in place, but allowing her the ability to squirm as needed in order to accommodate the extra intrusion.

Her breathing was harsh, and clipped, and she felt so, so, wonderfully, fucking _full_ (and but _damn_ was this better than anything else she could have done today). When she was finally able to pry her eyes open – both of them fully seated inside of her – she watched as Garrus' eyes met the other man's over her shoulder, a light nod from the turian was all that was needed before the three began to move at last. A shaky, off-beat push-pull, thrust-press, forward-back, until the motions became second nature. It was awkward, and messy, and perfect.

Tears were leaking from her eyes; and Zaeed was biting down in the same spot as Garrus had earlier, a slew of curses pouring forth whenever he took a breath. Garrus' neck was arched up, his head tilted back towards his cowl, eyes entirely unfocused, and a rumble reverberating from his chest. One orgasm after another tripped through her body in ways that she had never thought she'd be capable of. The thought fluttered through her mind that there was no possible way she wasn't going to black out from it all.

At which point she did. Black out, that is.

~~~\/~~~

When she came to, she was sprawled out on her back. Garrus was panting heavily to her left (still laying on his back), and Zaeed had slumped off to her right on his stomach. Eyes clamped shut, and breathing with even steady breathes. One of her legs was tangled up with Garrus', her foot resting on his leg spur, while her one arm was trapped quite effectively underneath Zaeed's chest, so that it was nearly curled around his hip. She'd probably have to move soon, or she'd lose all feeling in both limbs.

But right then, with a throb between her legs such as she had never known, love bites trailing down her chest that she couldn't even remember receiving, and a very distinct sensation of satisfaction filling up her core, she really didn't give a damn about what she _should_ do.

Which is, of course, why Mordin would chose that exact moment to wander into her (completely unlocked) quarters. Her chest plate in his hand. "Commander Shepard. Done research on beacon. Wanted to warn of..." The salarian locked large, black eyes on the three on the bed, blinking slowly as she met his gaze with an arched eyebrow, completely uncaring that they were all starkers in front of the good professor.

"Ahh. See you have encountered pollen. Not a problem. Sex-drive is normal for both humans and turians. Will not cause the same adverse reactions as with salarians. Effects last only three to five hours. Will experience heightened state of arousal and lowering of inhibitions until then." He nodded, and dropped the chest plate on the desk chair, before heading out the door. A moment later he stuck his head back in. "Will prepare ointment for...chafing. Come see me when done." And then he was gone.

"Well, that was awkward." Garrus' voice had an edge of amusement to it that was reflected in his eyes when she looked at him.

"Which part? The part about the ointment? The bit about the sex pollen? Or the part where he nearly got an eye-full of an impromptu orgy?"

It was Zaeed that answered. "You need at least one more person for an orgy, Shepard."

Garrus only snorted; but Shepard huffed, "Then what the hell do you call this? !"

Zaeed peeled one murky eye open, a lopsided smirk gracing his face, "A damn fine afternoon."

~END


End file.
